


letters to a love to be lost

by alfredolover119



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Depression, Fear of Abandonment, I'm Sorry, Love Letters, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Not a lot though, Pre-Relationship, Simon is sad, Spoilers for Book 2: Wayward Son, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Bad at Feelings, Watford Seventh Year, and can be read alone, second chapter happens between books, second chapter is a lot but if the tags scare you chapter one is fine and dandy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 10:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22294345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfredolover119/pseuds/alfredolover119
Summary: A selection of unsent letters between Simon and Baz.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	1. letter to a love to be lost

**Author's Note:**

> howdy! i don't know if this is good or not, but i had a time writing it. i hope you enjoy :) supposed to be during seventh year.

Dear Simon Snow, 

I don't know why I'm doing this. You'll never read it. I just can't stand looking at your stupid face anymore and not being able to kiss it. Or punch it. Neither you nor the anathema would approve of those actions, though, respectively.

I just want to know- how do you do it? How do you manage to drive me utterly insane in more than one way? I have never been able to look at you without feeling something overly strong. Is it hate? Anger? Jealousy? Love? It's probably all of the above. 

We can start with hate, I suppose. I hate you more than I hate anyone in this god-abandoned universe. You're bloody stupid, you can't even tell which side of your wand is the tip. You're overly loyal. Anytime you hear someone mention the Mage, you get defensive. I wonder if you know why you're so attached to him. If I was someone else, I might be able to guess what you think. I should be able to. I know where every freckle on your body is, but I still have no way to know what you're thinking. That's another thing I hate about you. How can you captivate me? It's not fair. I, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, might forget whatever I'm doing just because Simon Snow gets involved. You're one of just a few things that can do that to me, Snow. I hate you.

Anger is next. Everything you do makes me angry. I think that helps with the whole "hate" thing. You followed me around for a whole year trying to prove my species, yet you never managed. I know you know, but how did you not get any proof? Were you even trying to? You are such a moron. I don't like morons, they make me angry. You're just so, so annoying, Snow. You watch me like I'm the only person who exists and I know it's not in a good way. You think I'm evil, which is really an honor, to be honest. Simon Snow, resident chosen one, thinks I am evil. You've even told me as much. I think it's funny. One of the only funny things you've ever done. The fact that anything you've done at all, whether purposefully or not, that I find funny is annoying. Anger-inducing. You're such an idiot and you hate me and I hate you, but we're always watching each other. An outsider would find it difficult to know whether we're in love or hate. I suppose it's both.

Jealousy? I don't even know why. It ties right in with anger. Why do you get to be so powerful? Why do you get to skive off of class to run merry with the Mage? Why does the Mage even like you? I don't even want to be liked by the Mage, he's a bloody wanker. But why, just because you're the chosen one, you get to have so much prestige? Besides saving damsels in distress, what do you do? That's what I thought. You stalk your roommate, scowl, growl, and have tea with the Mage. You string your pretty little girlfriend along like she actually means something to you. You may not consciously know it, but you do not love her. Like that, at least. Would your life really be affected much if you didn't have her to do whatever she does? Maybe I'm jealous of that. Having someone who would be there for me, whether they actually want to or not. I don't know why people feel so obligated to treat you like the chosen one you already know you are. Wellbelove, especially. I can tell by the way she doesn't look at you. I know she doesn't love you like she says she does. Will it even hurt you when you find out? I don't know what I hope your reaction will be when you finally get there.

Finally, love. This is my least favorite one on the list. I didn't choose to feel this way. Who would? We aren't friends. You're my arch-nemesis, and I your's. You probably know about all the other things I feel toward you. If all goes well, one day you'll kill me without having to find out about this one. I hope nobody ever finds out about this one. It's masochism. I'm in love with my arch-nemesis. Truly, madly, deeply in love. Emphasis on deeply, for I try to keep it hidden away. I think pushing you down flights of stairs and sending chimeras out on you tends to help keep it hidden. You think I hate you, which I do. One of the reasons I hate you is because I love you. Your stupid hair, your stupid freckles and moles, and everything about you. You'll be my downfall, Snow. I know it. You know it. Only I know how you'll do it though. It might be with that silly sword of yours, but in all actuality, you've already caused my downfall. Downfall of the heart is the downfall of a man. Everytime I look at you, I know it's already happened. Beneath the hate, and jealousy, and anger. You look at me with such passion in your eyes. You don't look at anyone else like that. I know it's just me because you don't hate anyone else like you hate me. Hate is all it takes to strike down a vulnerable man in love. Why, Simon Snow? Why me? I chose you, but you didn't have to choose me as well. You're the sun, and I'm flying into you. You know you'll be the end of me. I almost think you've done it on purpose. Almost, of course, because you're far too moronic to hurt me like this on purpose. And some little part of my heart, somewhere between love and hate, it hopes you wouldn't hurt me like that, even if you did know. There's a reason that part is so little and hidden. I can't afford to dwell on it for long. I'm not ready to die, yet, I don't think. Once I am, though, be prepared, Snow. It will be your job to get rid of me. Yet all it will take is one look at me with your stupid eyes, and I'll be gone, gone, gone… 

Farewell, my love. You're the only one I'll ever say goodbye to, really.


	2. letter to a love already lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter from Simon to Baz, that he, naturally, will never see. Set in the time frame between Carry On and Wayward Son. This chapter contains darker themes than the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. It's been a few months. I had another idea for this chapter that I never fully developed, but this one hashed itself out better. Apologies for the rambling here, I got really into it while writing.

Baz:

This is more for me than you. I think. My subconscious might be doing it for you. I don't know. I try not to think about it. I try not to think about a lot of things. It's supposed to make things easier. Key phrase: supposed to. I feel like I should be thinking about things right now. Maybe I have been thinking about things. Maybe that’s why I’m writing this letter. 

I feel like shit. It’s not that I feel bad, it’s that I just don’t feel anything. Whenever you or Pen do something that should make me happy, I just get angry. It sucks, knowing I should be happy but still being incapable of feeling anything past numb and irritable. Know that when I snap at you, I don’t mean it. I’m mad at myself for not feeling anything. I don’t know why you even bother with me. I’m obviously not who you fell in… No. You’ve never even said that. I’m obviously not the person you fell in “like” with, I guess. But I’m not who I used to be. I don’t laugh, not really. I don’t bother you, on purpose. I just don’t feel like me. You’ve probably noticed that though.

Why are you still here, anyway? All I do is complain and watch daytime television. I don’t leave the couch; I’m a slob, a mess- in more than just the physical way. I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know who I want to be. Or if I want to be. I am positive that if you weren’t here, I’d be… Well, I’d definitely be dead, if not for the Mage’s efforts, then for maybe my own. I used to feel like I would explode from the inside out. Now I feel like I’m gonna explode from the outside in. But that’s stupid and doesn’t make sense, much like everything else having to do with me right now. 

I can’t say any of this out loud. You and Penny never leave me alone as is. I think you guys know, whether you realize it or not, how I’m feeling. I feel like there’s a bubble around me and everyone who gets near is infected with this. I don’t know what this is. I’ll figure it out one day, or I won’t. I want to go back to not thinking about things in my head. It was so, so much easier when I didn’t wonder whether my boyfriend actually loved me, and whether the whole point of my life was to be used by someone who I trusted, and that the only reason I’m where I’m at today is because of that person. Yeah. It’s a lot. There’s a reason I want to not think, again. The problem with thinking, though, is that once I started, I couldn’t stop. I’m stuck in an endless routine of thinking about the same things over and over again, and now that’s all I ever do. I could stop if I could figure things out, but since I don’t figure it out, I’m utterly and truly fucked. And if I go out and do things? Well, there’s the chance that I’ll find more things to think about, and where will I be then? More insufferable than ever, probably. You’ll have no choice but to leave me then, Baz. 

Why won’t you leave? Everyone else leaves. The Mage left. Agatha left. I guess my parents left. Ebb left. My fucking magic left, though it wasn’t mine to begin with. Penny will be leaving any day, I’m sure of it. Micah will beckon and she’ll be out of my life for good. And then it’s just you and me. Some past form of myself would have been thrilled by that: being alone with you for a long amount of time. Now, I know that if we’re ever like that, you’ll probably just leave. Sure, maybe not fully. But I’ll say something rude and you’ll leave the room. Or I won’t hold your hand because it feels so foreign and cold, and it’s not just your hands, everything is foreign and cold. I’m completely disconnected from the world. How many times can I not hold your hand before you’ll be gone for good? And Penny will be gone, so you won’t even have anyone to worry or gossip about me with anymore.

Yeah, I hear you. Well, I don’t hear you, you guys don’t use words, exactly. I see the looks, though. I can’t tell you guys to stop, though. As previously mentioned, my cloud of uncomfortable, tense, angry emotion has to affect everyone around me. I just don’t know how many of those looks you can share before you both just pack up and leave. It won’t be your fault for leaving me, either. It would be completely called for. I almost wish you would so I’ll have one less thing to think about.

And I’m back to thinking. Old me would be disgusted. New me is disgusted. With myself, with thinking, with you, with Penny, with the Mage. Mainly me, though. Everything I’m disgusted with other people for leads back to me. Except for maybe thinking. Well, scratch that. If I had never started thinking in the first place this wouldn’t be a thing, or maybe if I had always been thinking it wouldn’t have taken me by surprise. Who knows? Certainly not me. I don’t know anything. Is my name even Simon Snow? Is that my real name? Last name and all? My parents probably just gave me a silly name so I wouldn’t be able to trace myself back to them. I almost wish they’d just abandoned me at birth. Almost. If they had, I never would’ve met you or Pen. Then again, I’m just a burden on you most days, so is it selfish of me to be glad I’ve survived this long? Woo, another question with no answer. I’ve got to stop this. 

I could probably keep wallowing in my sorrows, which, that is what I’m doing, but Penny will be awake soon. She’d probably cry if she read this. Or maybe she wouldn’t. I don’t know anyone anymore. Not that there’s anyone to know, You, Penny, me. Knowing three people should be easy, but if I can’t even interpret myself, how am I supposed to interpret other people.

How do you end letters that the addressed will never receive? I’d say I love you, but we both know I’m not good enough to love you. Love. That’s a whole other topic.

Bye, Baz. From Simon, who is simply awaiting the day  _ you _ say bye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I have one more chapter idea, another Baz POV, thought out. If you guys would like to see that, just let me know with comments and kudos :)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i might write a part two for this, probably not though. if you enjoyed, let me know with comments and kudos!


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